


Kick

by stalksoftly



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Begging, Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, RIP Wraith Sorry bout that, Rough Sex, Sex in the Arena
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26509225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stalksoftly/pseuds/stalksoftly
Summary: Octane's never been on the same squad as Revenant - until today.
Relationships: Octane | Octavio Silva/Revenant
Comments: 9
Kudos: 83





	Kick

**Author's Note:**

> I deliberated for a long time on what pairing I was going to write first for Apex and this jumped into my brain and it wouldn't leave, sorry.

Octane feels his first non-synthetic rush of the day when his squad appears on the marquee that morning. He's played with the best, the worst, the cloyingly unfunny magicians, the irritatingly stalwart trackers, even his best friend and rival, Che - but never this guy. 

Octane's sitting in his jumpseat, feet swinging, when he gets the news. 

Squad #7: Octane. Wraith. Revenant. 

There's an electrifying bustle on the dropship as legends make their way to their teammates, chattering wildly about strategy or wrapping each other in preemptively triumphant hugs. 

Octane's still uncharacteristically lost in thought, nibbling at the ragged skin on his cuticles, when he feels a soft tap on his shoulder. He hops to his feet with a sated metallic clank. 

"Aye amigo, I'm the only one who's supposed to make me jump!" 

He whips his head around to a familiar face - Wraith. In all his trepidation over the simulacrum, he'd hardly noticed her as the third addition to his team. 

"Do you want to go over our game plan?" she says coolly. Her expression is steady, undecipherable as usual. Octane doesn't know, doesn't really care how she feels about him, but he's never minded her as a teammate. At least she's been reliably fast, not easily left in the dust when he amps himself up. Maybe a little less impulsive, but he doesn't mind her one bit. 

He does mind plans and their restrictive, boring nature, but he makes an effort to pretend to look like he's listening. Wraith starts to unload her earful in her careful, even tone - something about positioning, scouting, strategic jump pad placement, blah blah blah - and he nods his head quickly, enthusiastically. 

Octane's thoughts, though, have raced back to his other teammate. Revenant, Revenant, Revenant - the name bounces around his brain like a ping pong ball. Yeah, he knows the guy - he knows the feeling of seeing his squad emerge like smokey, demonic entities from behind cover and the thrill of slamming stim into his chest to race away, he remembers Revenant's almost reptilian hiss as he's jumped just out of reach of his metallic claws and their cruel intentions yet again. He remembers all the times they've bumped into each other in the arena and the fresh feeling of fear rush through his veins - he had to admit, being chased by a machine built for the purpose of killing - that had a special little kick. 

"...and no jump pads at the end of my dimensional rifts this time, Octavio? Promise?" 

Octane's thoughts drop back to the conversation happening to him. 

He throws up an enthusiastic 'ok' with his hand. "Loud and clear, hermana!" He gives her a wink for good measure. 

Wraith sighs, knowing she's probably wasted her breath, but she accepts the fist bump he holds out to her as they part to get ready in their respective rooms. 

\--

"Piece of advice amigo? Wanna go faster? Lose the loin cloth!" 

That's the last thing Octane remembers shouting before hitting his stim and racing far beyond his robotic teammate, right into the heat of battle. That's the last thing he remembers when he comes to, his ears ringing and another syringe plunged into his chest, this time without the pleasant sizzle of adrenaline accompanying it. Warmth washes over his limbs and the pain he just realized he was feeling starts to ebb away. 

"I knew you weren't listening to her plan," Revenant hisses into his ear. His vision's already clearing, but everything still feels muffled. Even with the meds propping him back up, his abdomen feels tight and sore. He clutches an arm around the bullet wound there, no longer bleeding and already starting to seal itself shut. He pats himself over and finds his goggles twisted on top of his head. 

"Fuck compadre, I don't know what-" Octane's sentence is cut off sharply by the metal hand snaking itself into his hair and pulling him up from the ground and to his knees. 

"You stupid, naive skinsuit," Revenant hisses, standing over him. He points the gun in his hand to the deathbox in the corner of the room. Octane swallows hard. Wraith. He knows without a third teammate, their chance of winning is slim to none. He can already hear the irritated squabble of his sponsors and the sensational interviews recounting his loss... but those thoughts disintegrate when Revenant swings his gun back over to Octane and forces the daredevil's attention back to him. He nudges Octane's cheek with the barrel, tugging his mask down his chin. 

Cool and heavy against his skin, Octane can't help but shiver when the gun makes contact with his bare cheek. He gazes up at Revenant, something pooling in his abdomen... fear? Adrenaline? Octane can't make sense of anything, except that Revenant's optics are whirring softly and piercing sharply into him.

Revenant slides the gun over Octane's mouth, unmoving.

"What were you thinking?"

He swallows sharply. 

Octane can hear the grating grind of his knees against the metal floors, he can feel the gun pressed firmly against his lips, he can feel the prickle of excitement course through his limbs. A wave of goosebumps rush over his scalp when Revenant gives his hair a sharp tug. 

"Nothing to say for yourself? That would be a first." 

Octane chuckles and wiggles his thighs back and forth nervously.

"I don't know, compadre, me and Wraith were right there and if you hadn't been casting little spells back there instead of pushing with us- ahh," Octane gasps as Revenant cuts him off with another yank of his hair. He feels the harsh metal fingers curling against his scalp, the harsh metal barrel pressed firmly against his lips. 

He lets out a little groan. 

Every part of Revenant freezes. 

Before he can muster a second thought about Revenant's likelihood that he would kill a teammate if given the opportunity, before he can reel himself in, Octane does the first thing his body wants him to do. 

He parts his lips and licks the barrel of the pistol pressed against his mouth. 

Revenant pulls his hair again, this time directing his head back, away from the gun. Chin up, Octane's lips stay parted as he looks up at the imposing machine looming over him. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Octane's legs wiggle and bounce again, from the nerves, the tension, the adrenaline... the arousal pooling in his groin. He definitely doesn't have, want or need an answer- all Octane knows is that the pain of Revenant's unrelenting hand woven into his hair feels harsh and good. 

All he knows is that the gun, so dangerously pointed at his skull, is poised in front of Revenant's groin and he's here on his knees, an erection forming in his pants. 

He wiggles and scoots again, this time more overtly. He definitely can't stop moving when the tightness of his harness meets his cock. 

"Are you fucking getting off on this?" Revenant spits with what might be derision, but his voice sounds lower, slower. He doesn't recoil his hand or the gun. 

Octane doesn't answer but he doesn't stop moving either. Eyes locked on glowing optics, he ruts a little more enthusiastically, his face growing red when Revenant doesn't look away. This is embarrassing, he knows it, but Octane can't help the need building inside him as he squirms under the simulacrum's gaze, fully aware of the gun still pointed at him. The thrill, the danger of coming undone in front of this murderous entity... Octane feels like he can't even hold himself responsible.

He reaches down to press his palm to the front of his pants and he bucks forward into it. Another little groan escapes his parted lips. 

Revenant moves suddenly, sharply, and Octane can barely process anything through the heat of his arousal, except that he's on his feet now, back pressed against the cool metal wall. The simulacrum's arm is pressed against his chest and his breath quickens when he realizes their faces are only inches apart. 

"You should be afraid of me," Revenant hisses, voice still low. 

"Believe me, compadre, I'm super scared of you," Octane chuckles nervously again, all his words running together with how quickly they topple out. 

"I think I need to show you the meaning of fear."

Revenant removes his arm from Octane's chest and curls a hand around his throat. 

His pulse thuds against metal and Octane wonders for a split second if Revenant can feel...

The hand tightens and Octane grunts, his face burning red. Fully hard now, a spot of precum forms on the front of pants. He knows he's really playing with fire now, but he can't help it, pyromaniac that he is, because Octane cups the front of his pants and gives himself a squeeze. He lets out a moan, not holding back, but it comes out choked because of Revenant's firm grip. 

Revenant is motionless again and god, Octane wishes he could read his expression, but the way his face remains frozen and fierce, designed to be threatening for all eternity, oh brother, that's got a kick. He palms himself harder until he feels something cool brush his hand. He looks down, expecting the gun, but no. It's Revenant. 

Loin cloth draped over it to the left, Octane sees his pleasure attachment out, fully extended and brushing the back of his hand.

"Holy shit amigo," Octane huffs, strained, not relinquishing the palming of his own cock. "I thought you just wore that thing for show-" 

"Shut it," Revenant barks.

A loud clank breaks the silence - Revenant's gun slides across the room. Hand free to wander now, he grabs Octane's wrist and pulls his hand sharply to his attachment. Octane gives it an experimental squeeze, a tug, the silicon coating so smooth and lifelike against his fingers. This close to the simulacrum, he can hear the hum of Revenant's cooling fans start up. The hand around his throat tightens - Octane knows he'll see stars soon. 

"I could probably slice you stem to stern-" Octane gasps when Revenant's hand brushes over his clothed cock, pointedly tracing a line up his body. "-and you wouldn't even try to stop me. Look at you. Falling apart for me."

"Please-" Octane whimpers and bucks his hips needily. Everything is too much for him now - the hand again his throat, the stars in his eyes, his cock swollen and throbbing for release. 

Revenant grabs Octane's hand and guides it up and down his attachment before answering. Octane complies immediately, jerking off the simulacrum with a steady pace. His body shakes with anticipation. 

"Please what?" Revenant hums, thrusting languidly into his fist.

"Please, amigo, if you don't touch me, I'm probably gonna explode," Octane whines, squirming his hips again.

Still thrusting, Revenant hums in that low, almost reptilian way again. 

"Mm. I like it when you beg," he says, easing back off Octane's throat. The latter coughs and gasps, dizzy with the sudden rush of oxygen. He doesn't have time to recover, though, because Revenant grabs him by the front of the shirt and drags him to the corner of the room. Following one effortless push, Octane's front collides with one of the many metal crates in the room. His legs dangle over the edge. 

He feels Revenant's hands firmly against his hips but they don't linger, instead opting to pull down his pants down to his knees. 

The same hands rest on his ass for a moment, kneading his flesh. Roughly, they pull his cheeks apart, exposing his asshole fully. Octane moans, eyes watering with how badly he fucking needs this. 

"Dios mio, Rev, please, fucking, please," Octane says, his words incoherent, sloppy. 

"Be more specific," Revenant teases. One of his fingers, sharp and cold, dances over Octane's entrance. Octane twitches and grinds against the crate underneath him. 

"Please just fucking fuck me, jesus christ, I can't take it," he whines, bucking his hips again as Revenant's finger massages but refuses enter his hole. 

"Get yourself nice ready for me," Revenant says, removing his finger entirely, and returns his hands to knead Octane's ass. 

Octane wastes no time - he props himself up on one elbow, brings a hand to his mouth and drops a thick wad of spit into his palm. Not ideal, but Octane knows there aren't many alternatives and the one option he won't consider now is stopping. 

He turns around to bring his hand back behind him when his eyes lock on Revenant. Standing there over him, optics brighter than ever, one hand on Octane's ass and the other wrapped around his girthy synthetic cock, he looks more intimidating than Octane could have ever dreamed. But this dream, this blissful nightmare standing over him is real, and Octane groans when he smears the spit on his hole, all for Revenant. 

Revenant's hand starts to move quickly as he jerks himself off to lewd display in front of him and Octane can't wait, can't waste anymore time. He slips in one finger and groans, slow and low. He accommodates the stretch, no problemo, and with haste, adds another finger right after. In and out, he spreads his legs wider as he fingers himself. Octane's cheek is pressed to the crate as he stares at Revenant staring at him. 

"Look at yourself, skinbag," Revenant says, his voice so low and deep it starts to fry at the bottom of his range. "Fucking your own fingers and drooling like a whore. All this for me? You shouldn't have." 

"Dude, fuck. Dude, I need you so bad," is all Octane can manage to bubble out at this point, and he does drool a little as he massages his own prostate with curled fingers. 

Finally, enough. Finally, Octane feels the same threatening metal hand that started all of this grab his hair and pull his head back. The other one grabs his wrist and pulls his fingers out of his hole. Octane whines at the loss of pressure, but cuts it off with a gasp as Revenant's cock, far thicker than his two fingers, pushes against his entrance. 

A firm hand on his waist, Revenant grips Octane and slides himself to the hilt in one heavy thrust. Octane's hole stings as it stretches around him, but more than that, the pressure, the fullness, the bliss makes him cry out. 

Revenant pulls his hair sharply again and starts to move, no more teasing left in him. He fucks him against the crate, Octane's chin rubbing against the rough metal bolts with every thrust. Revenant's attachment hits his prostate again and again, ruthlessly hammering against it, and overwhelming pleasure blooms in Octane's belly. He moans and bucks, arching his back to lean into the feeling - but it isn't enough. Octane tries to snake a hand under his belly so he can maybe, somehow, give his neglected cock a stroke, but Revenant seizes his wrist again, pinning it by his head. 

Still pounding into him, Revenant asks, "What do you want?" 

"More," Octane whimpers. He bites into his own clenched fist to stifle another moan. 

"Hmmm?" Revenant purrs behind him. "What did you say?"

"I, I, I- please," is all Octane can stutter.

"Come on, I know you have it in you." 

"Please let me cum, I'll cum so good for you, I promise, I promise, I'll be so good-" Octane gasps, red-faced, voice hoarse and out of breath. 

It's enough, finally enough. Octane feels the simulacrum grab his thighs roughly. Revenant drags him from the crate and unceremoniously tosses him to the ground. His elbows strike the unforgiving metal floor, but Octane can hardly feel it because Revenant's already flipping him over onto his back. He guides himself back into Octane's hole and thrusts his hips forward again, this time fucking into him hard and fast and without pause.

Octane finally wraps a hand around his cock and his head rolls back with bliss. 

"Fuck yes, papí, thank you," he groans, stroking himself in time with Revenant's speedy thrusts. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes-" is the only other thing he can muster as he jerks himself off, his cock so sensitive from all the tease and build up that his orgasm is already brimming inside of him.

Revenant leans forward and wraps his hand around Octane's throat again. His voice more fry than anything else now, he gives one command. 

"Scream." 

And Octane does. His head back, his voice choked by Revenant's hand, he cries out, groans, whimpers and curses as he clenches around Revenant. All the pleasure builds into one giant wave that floods Octane's senses - his vision clouds with stars and he's pretty sure his ears are ringing, but all he can focus on is his cock twitching in his hand as he finally releases a thick rope of cum onto his own chest, onto the fabric of his crop top. Tears slip down the sides of his face as his muscles give way and he goes limp.

Revenant keeps going. Octane winces from over-stimulation, but he feels something else in the air, in his body. As Revenant towers over him, hand still pressed to his throat, fucking him, Octane sees... a buzz. A hazy static? Sparks dance around the thick, exposed wiring in Revenant's limbs as he thrusts hard, optics brighter than ever before and fixated on Octane's flushed face. A prickle starts to form on Octane's throat and inside him, all the places Revenant is touching him. It's a new sensation to him but it's electric, it's so good. With every thrust, the prickle pulses inside him and grows stronger.

Revenant fucks him faster and faster and the sparks dancing over his mechanical body grow brighter and brighter. Octane can hardly enjoy the light show because the electrical pulse inside him becomes overwhelming, unforgiving. With every thrust, it shoots into his prostate and Octane whines again, not sure if he can take any more. He gives in and wraps a hand around his cock, somehow already hard again. 

Sparks fly and hiss and buzz and suddenly a hard jolt seizes Octane's throat and his hole, shooting a sharp bolt of pleasure directly into his nerves. He tightens around Revenant again, cumming for the second time, his cock pulsing painfully on his stomach. The simulacrum lets out a low, rumbling growl and finally stops moving - where Octane would've heard gasping breaths, he hears the deafening sound of Revenant's cooling fans buzzing at top speed. Finishing is a little different, Octane figures, when you’re not made of flesh. 

Revenant lets out a relieved hiss. 

Octane brings his hands to his face, pink and shiny with sweat.

“Oh my god,” he huffs, his chest rising and falling. He wipes a hand across his brow and lays it against his chest, lazily wiping his cum into the fabric of his shirt. He lies there, still for a moment, basking in his afterglow with Revenant still inside him. 

He looks up with half-lidded eyes when he starts to feel Revenant pull out of him. The simulacrum’s fans have calmed down and he’s eerily quiet as he crouches over him for a second. Again, Octane wishes he could read something in Revenant’s face but it’s frozen in the same old glare. His optics are dimmer now, though, even as they swirl and fixate on Octane’s face. 

“What’re you looking at?” he chuckles nervously. A small spike of fear rises up inside him but he doesn’t have any arousal left to accompany it. He squirms - maybe Revenant does want to put that gun to his temple now? Octane sits up and tries to pat his pants for a stim, just in case, but he ends up patting bare thigh.

“Hmm,” is all Revenant says before he pushes himself to his feet in one fluid motion. Octane finds it almost… elegant, in a way, and for a split second, he feels like he’s seeing something other than just a crazed murder machine before him.

“You know...” Octane starts carefully, his voice still a little scratchy. “That was pretty fun, amigo.” He doesn’t understand his own need to say it, like Revenant didn’t hear his whines and groans and shameless begging moments earlier, but he does anyway.

Revenant doesn’t answer and instead walks across the room to retrieve his gun. He opens his minimap with one hand and scrolls around it before tapping his finger and pinging a location. 

“We’re not in the ring. Better leave soon if we want to respawn this banner,” he says, crouching to swipe a couple of boxes of ammo from Wraith’s box. 

Octane’s breath has almost completely calmed down again when Revenant returns to him, one hand extended. It takes him a second to realize what’s going on because he doesn’t expect the almost gentlemanly gesture, but Octane finally grabs Revenant’s hand and pulls himself up. 

“Gracias,” he says, signature crooked smile tugging at his face. He shimmies his pants back over his ass and pats down his pocket for stim, something he’ll need ASAP to combat the jelly his thighs have become. 

“I didn’t do it for you,” Revenant grunts as he shoulders the door open. 

Octane rolls his eyes.

“Who then?” he mutters to himself. He flicks the cap off one of his syringes and plunges it into his chest, racing past the simulacrum.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :-) Let me know if you liked it!


End file.
